


eyes of one who has conquered sorrow (in so far as sorrow is conquerable)

by tomas_abe



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: A lot of Kara and feelings, Gen, Lots of dialogue, Some Fluff, Some angst, au-ish
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-01-15 11:55:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12320592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomas_abe/pseuds/tomas_abe
Summary: Why is there a delay on the highway?Kara Danvers is on the case.(And really should've expected things to get... weird)





	1. Radio Times

**Author's Note:**

> I was talking to someone the other day and we were lamenting the dearth of case-fic.  
> So... here’s some case-fic. Kind of.  
> AU in that Daxam is not important and this takes place in some nebulous timeline when Kara was just starting out on reporting.

It’s the honking what wakes her.

“What’s going on?” she asks Snapper. 

“Some kind of roadblock,” he replies, sounding as curt as ever. 

“How long?” Kara asks. But really she knows the answer. It’s in the tenseness of his shoulders. In the white-knuckled grip he has on the steering wheel and it’s in the clench of his jaw.

They’ve been stuck here a while. 

(Kara panics a bit. What if it’s an accident? She’s not really in a position to make an excuse and take off as Supergirl. Not here, in Snapper’s car, surrounded by two other reporters. And even if she could leave without arousing suspicion… she doesn’t have her uniform on her. Heck, she doesn’t have any powers, having blown them out in a fight earlier in the morning.

No. There’s nothing she can do at the moment.)

The thought grates. It makes Kara’s hands clench because she knows. She knows she shouldn’t have overexerted herself fighting earlier. She should have waited for more back-up. She should have-

“About ten minutes,” says Isabela, the new metro beat stringer. She’s looking at her phone, typing away at a furious pace. “We don’t know exactly why though.”

“Accident?” Kara asks.

“No,“ pipes up Theo, who is sitting on Kara’s right. He’s also on his phone, scrolling through something Kara can’t quite catch without her superhuman eyesight. 

"There haven’t been any accidents reported on the police scanner,” Isabela says from the passenger seat.

“Has something else been reported?” Snapper asks, making all three stringers straighten to attention.

“Yes,” Theo says, leaning across the console to show Snapper his screen. “A unit requesting back up. Couldn’t catch the why though.”

“Huh. Weird.”

“No kidding,” Theo deadpans. 

Faced with her coworker’s quick and professional information gathering, Kara feels even more useless.

She doesn’t really have contacts yet, at least none that can be useful in this situation. She doesn’t have powers at the moment, so she can’t eavesdrop or look ahead.

(She hasn’t even taken her phone out of her back pocket. It’d be useless since it was broken during the earlier fight)

All she has right now are her people skills and determination to do well.

Resolute, Kara opens the door and exits the car.

“Danvers!” Snapper barks out, “What are you-“

“Finding out what the hold up is,” she says in the most no-nonsense tone she can muster, hoping it will make up for the rude interruption.

Then she walks off before he can add something to that. She moves forwards cautiously, sticking to the side of the cars, occasionally asking the drivers who have their windows down if they have any idea of what’s going on.

No one does.

She lights up at the sight of a trailer two cars down, well aware that truck drivers tend to be well informed on road going-ons. 

(She remembers sitting at Bobby’s Diner, conveniently located just off the interstate back in Midvale, and hearing truck drivers gossip about people from all over.

‘Did you hear the latest? Davey’s kid got into Brown! We’re meeting down at the I-30 Wednesday to celebrate!’

‘Did you hear about Cheryl divorcing Matt? Good for her. Should’ve left that son of a- shit- I mean f- damn. Sorry kiddo. Just ignore us potty-mouth adults, yeah?’

And on and on. Birthdays, spats, romances, accomplishments, rivalries, recipes, and songs. 

Frankly, between the gossipy truckers, curious tourists, boisterous bikers, and a jukebox on a constant rotation of Johnny Cash and Bruce Springsteen, Bobby’s is where Kara learned the most about what it truly meant to live in modern Americana)

“Hi sir!” she calls up to the driver of the large truck, a thick but kind-looking man who smiles down at her without censure. 

“Howdy there!” he greets, southern twang elongating the syllables. “What can I do for you ma’am?” 

Kara heaves herself up the side of the truck so she’s standing on the step, bringing herself closer to eye-level with the man. 

“I was wondering if you knew anything about why we’re stopped?”

“Lucky for you I just radioed in to ask that same question. Just waiting for someone who knows to answer,” he replies promptly.

“Oh,” Kara deflates a bit, “so there are others that don’t know what’s going on?”

“That’s right,” the man nods, faded hat bobbing awkwardly with the motion. “As far up as two miles down.”

“Wow. That’s- do you think it’s an accident or something?”

“Um. That would’ve been my first guess, yes.”

“But you don’t think that’s the case do you?” Kara asks, having noticed the man’s hesitation.

“No, I think it might be something else,” he admits sheepishly.

“What do you think it is?”

“Well… Folks up here- they warn us sometimes to be a bit more careful around these parts because of all the- well,” he blushes, cheeks turning ruddy, “all the aliens ma’am”

“Oh.” Kara winces. “You think it’s an alien causing mayhem?”

“Well. I don’t known nothing about causing mayhem but maybe… maybe it’s something related. I’ve heard you folks also got them CADMUS fellows mucking about.”

“Hmm yeah, I see what you mean. Hopefully, it’ll work out soon so you can get closer to home”

Kara beams at the driver, who looks endearingly chuffed at the attention. 

“Here’s a-hoping ma’am,” he demurs.

A voice from the radio rigged to the front of the cab catches their attention.

“-this the one-nine breaker? Big-Billy? You hear me?” 

The driver takes the receiver quickly and responds. 

“Ten-two. This is Billy. What’s your twenty? You past the 78 yard stick?”

“Affirmative old chap,” crackles out from the radio. “I’m at the 80 yard stick”

“Well? How’s it looking up there?”  

“Like a window wash Billy. An honest to God wall of rain is what I’m seeing. I mean that literally. The water is pouring down so hard I can’t see half an inch in front of me. We’re all stuck because of it. Don’t seem safe to try and move forwards in these conditions.” 

Billy and Kara look up at the clear blue sky and shining sun. They share a confused glance.

“I don’t see no rain back here,” Billy hesitantly says into the receiver. “Don’t even see no clouds.”

“You don’t? Well, then I don’t know what to tell you because rain is all I’m seeing. It’s unbelievable,” the voice says, sounding more than a little overwhelmed.

Kara leans more into the cab through the window and gestures towards the radio, asking for permission. Billy nods and passes over his mic to her. She takes a breath before pressing the side button to transmit.

“Did the rain just come out of nowhere?” she asks the man at the other end.

“Affirmative. Clouds just rolled in and started crying… And let me just say you sound much prettier than Big Billy there,” the guy says, voice turning teasing.

“I don’t know, I think Billy’s plenty pretty,” Kara replies, sending Billy a smile. The man blushes. “How long has it been pouring?”

“Ten minutes give or take. Talk about lucking out. And to believe I was just about to leave the stripes so I could hit up an em-rest. Maybe when this clears up we can all grab a root pop? I have to meet both of you before deciding who’s prettier.”

Kara chuckles.

“Keep up the sweet talking and you might. Sorry about the bad luck,” she says. “Can you see the sky though? How overcast is it on your end?”

“Can’t see past my windshield doll,” the man pauses. “What if I’m prettier than both of you? You and Billy gonna hate me for it?”

Billy lets out a loud boisterous laugh. Kara snorts.

“Nah. Billy and I’ve got gentle hearts. We’d just call you pretty boy until the end of time,” she replies. Billy laughs harder. She smiles for a beat before growing serious again. “I know you say you can’t see much but what about the other drivers?”

“What about them?”

“Are they moving? Are they honking? Did they see the rain come in at the same time you did? Anything you can recall helps.”

A pause. 

“I don’t hear them. It’s funny, I can’t actually hear any-“ 

The voice is cut off by static. Kara frowns at Billy, who is beginning to look alarmed.

“Pretty boy? Um-“ she stops. She never asked for his name. “Pretty boy? Do you copy?”

The man doesn’t respond. Billy and her share an uneasy glance. Billy takes the radio from her.

“It’s not polite to leave a lady waiting fella. Do you read?”

Still no answer. Kara feels a sense of foreboding. She backs away from the truck, moving forwards again.

“Hey, ma’am! Ma’am!” Billy is opening his door, looking ready to hop off his truck. “What are-“

“Keep trying to reach him,” Kara interrupts firmly. “I’m going to get a bit closer.”

“Ma’am-”

“Hey, I’ll be careful,” she says as reassuringly as she can. Billy nods after a moment and she smiles one last time at the man before turning and walking further down the highway.  
  
///  
  
She’s only walked about half a mile before she hears someone calling her name. She looks back and sees Snapper jogging towards her. The sight is incongruous enough that she’s still a little shocked by the time he reaches her.

“Dammit Danvers. How’d you get this far so quickly?” he asks, panting a little from the exertion.

(Even without sun-given powers, her muscles, born to a higher gravity, are stronger than any human’s. So yeah. Even in her current state, she’s pretty sure she can run a mile in less than half the time it would take an average person.)

“Cardio,” she replies absently, still a little surprised by the man’s presence. “Did you just leave your car back there?”

Snapper shrugs. 

“We weren’t moving anyways. Traffic’s at a standstill,” he says.

She raises both eyebrows. He rolls his eyes. The familiarity of the motion is a little reassuring.

“I locked it and the other two rookies can take care of it,” he grumbles. “Have you heard anything about what’s going on?”

“A little. Did you get anything more from the police?” she asks.

“Nothing. Backup was dispatched but they haven’t checked in,” he says. Kara reflexively imitates his frown at the news.

“That’s odd.”

“Very. What did you hear?” he asks. Out of some unspoken agreement, they continue walking forwards.

“Not much,” Kara admits. “One of the truck drivers told me no one in the next two miles knows what’s going on.”

“And past those two miles?”

“Well, we got word from another driver up in marker 80 who said it was raining.”

“Raining?” Snapper repeats incredulously. “Sky’s clear today.”

“I know,” she nods. “But that’s what the guy said. Apparently, it was pouring hard enough that he couldn’t see anything. But-”

“But what?”

Kara looks at her boss, debating on whether to say her suspicions out loud. She’s really not feeling up to being written off today.

Snapper just raises an eyebrow expectantly, a bead of sweat running past his neck and onto the collar of his rumpled shirt.

(Kara still finds it hard to believe that Cat Grant lets the man show up to her building dressed like that)

“I don’t know,“ she finally admits. "He got cut off suddenly. One second he was speaking and the next… nothing. Just static. But even before that something was weird.”

“What makes you think so?” Snapper asks thoughtfully, not dismissing her instantly, much to her relief.

“Well,” she continues, “for starters, he didn’t sound that worried about the rain. More… awed. And he said a couple of things I didn’t really get.”

“Maybe it was just trucker lingo?”

“No- I grew up in a small town. I get trucker lingo. He used some expressions I’ve never heard before. Like… he mentioned an em-rest. I have no idea what that is,” Kara admits.

“Emergency rest maybe?” Snapper asks, tone making it obvious he’s not convinced by his own explanation either.

“Maybe.”

They fall silent as they walk further down the highway. People are starting to leave their cars to ask others what’s going on. 

(It makes Kara feel anxious)

She doesn’t know what’s going on and the crowded lanes make her feel uneasy. She’s also kicking herself for not having borrowed Billy’s phone to call Alex and get the DEO to look into it.

Something just feels off about the entire situation. Enough to make her instincts scream at the rest of her body.

(For the first time in a long while, her hands are sweating. 

Here she is, Supergirl, made nervous by sweaty hands)

“You said he got cut off?” Snapper asks, suddenly breaking the awkward silence. “What was he saying before it happened?”

“He was saying that he couldn’t hear any of the other drivers,” Kara relays dutifully. “He started mentioning that something was funny when- bam. Nothing.”

Snapper’s frown becomes more pronounced.

They walk on.

  
///

There’s no rain. There are just cars and trucks idling. None of them move. She can see the occupants breathing but she can’t see them actually move. No fidgeting. No squeaking of leather. 

The vehicle occupants just stare forwards blankly, breathing in eerie synchronization. 

She and Snapper share an uncomfortable glance.

She spots a police cruiser on the shoulder and wordlessly indicates to Snapper that she’ll approach. He nods and heads in the opposite direction, towards a large blue trailer. 

Kara gets close enough to the cruiser to notice that the cop inside- Officer Nguyen according to his nametag- is just as immobile as everyone else. Breathing in at the same rate as the others too. 

The hairs of her arms stand on edge.

It definitely did rain though. Water droplets are clinging to the surface of cars. Gathering together into bigger and bigger wet spots. A couple of puddles are scattered on the pavement as well. 

She crouches to inspect one further, sniffing at it a little. It smells odd. Like chlorine. 

Kara’s tempted to just plunge a finger in there. Real tempted.

Reason wins out and she abandons the puddle to instead approach the cruiser again. She opens the driver’s door carefully so that the officer inside doesn’t slump to the pavement. She’s debating whether to borrow his phone to call Alex or patch directly into the DEO’s frequency through the cruiser’s radio when she feels something drip onto her arm.

She glances up at the door frame, where a droplet of water is still clinging to the surface.

Then she looks down at the drop of water that just hit her arm.

“Well… shit.”

The subsequent darkness is unexpected only in its swiftness.

(At least she didn’t actually touch the puddle)  
  
  



	2. Rainy Times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snapper swears a lot.

Static.

Snapper sighs, putting the radio mic back on its hook, careful not to jostle the unmoving man next to him.

“No one is responding,” he calls out as he steps down from the eight-wheeler, “I don’t think the radios are working.”

Danvers doesn’t answer. Snapper sighs again, giving physicality to his annoyance, and approaches the cruiser Danvers was checking out with more stomp than usual.

(It’s the silence, really. It’s giving him anxiety and maybe hives so the loud clomping of his shoes is a comforting distraction from eerie town.

Although not enough to distract from the fact that it’s fucking creepy as fuck how no one is moving but somehow everyone is breathing in unison)

Surreptitiously, Snapper pinches himself at the spot where his forearm and elbow connect. The pain is not reassuring. He honestly would probably have preferred this to be some kind of lucid nightmare.

“Have you found anything?” he asks, as soon as he sees Danvers’ surprisingly broad back.

Danvers doesn’t reply. In fact, Danvers is very still at the spot where she’s crouched.

Creepily still.

Shit.

“Danvers!” he whispers harshly, warily approaching her from an angle. “Psst! Danvers! If you’re messing with me I don’t care if Cat Grant herself thinks you shit gold, you’re fired, you hear me.”

Danvers remains unmoved.

Shit.

“Shit shit shit,” he chants, never one to leave his thoughts unexpressed in situations of this sort. And by situations of this sort, he means weird-ass creepy situations which he would more than love leaving to the Lois Lanes of the world.

“’Move to National City Lucas’,” he mocks, voice pitched high, “’it’s not as eccentric as Metropolis, it’s definitely less insane than Gotham. You’ll be reporting on real issues,’” he keeps murmuring, now only a few steps away from Danvers, who is definitely not moving and is definitely breathing at the same tempo as every other pod person in the area, “’serious, hard-hitting investigative journalism Lucas, a team for you that is not just reacting but shaping the news’. Fucking Cat Grant, should’ve known it was too good to be true,” he grumbles, reaching out slowly to touch Ponytail’s back.

She stands before he can make contact and he has a second to let out a breath of relief before he recoils at the blank expression on Danvers’ usually animated face.

“Shit,” he swears again, uselessly fluttering his hands about, afraid to touch her and become a pod person too but definitely wanting to stop her from continuing her march towards a puddle that begins to ripple ominously.

He watches as the ripples grow larger and larger, spreading further until it seems like the puddle is expanding which-

the fucking puddle is expanding. Holy fuck. In the time it took for him to blink the thing expanded to the size of a manhole and, suddenly, there is Kara fucking Danvers kneeling in front of it, eyes vacant and face lax.

“Danvers. Danvers! Kara! Fuck it,” he says, going in to grip the blonde’s shoulder, possible pod person infection be damned.

His hand barely brushes over the rough fabric of her mint green sweater before she plunges face first into the puddle, body disappearing into it as if the fucking thing were more than an inch deep.

Every single vehicle around him, previously idling, suddenly shuts down, leaving Snapper with an outstretched arm, palm still tingling with the phantom itch of fabric, and a piercingly loud silence.

Not even a hint of fucking static.

 

///

 

Kara wakes up in free-fall.

She begins screaming of course. Falling without powers seems like a scream-worthy event.

Although, falling might not be the right word for whatever is happening to her. She’s going too fast for it to be a free-fall, the terminal velocity for her body’s size _should not_ be enough for her surroundings to be the blur of grey that is currently all she can see.

Kara tries to turn around, which proves to be difficult in this weird accelerated fall that she’s in. She thinks she manages, but it’s impossible to orient herself when she can’t see clearly and the only sound reaching her ears is that of air being displaced by her mass in an all-encompassing howl.

She flails and falls and she turns and falls and she falls and falls, faster and faster until she can see nothing at all.

She falls for so long that she stops screaming and instead starts dreaming.

 

///

 

In ancient times, back when Krypton was a planet of warring nations, the oldest of them all, the Tengrekon, who had been subjugated early during the wars by the Eieduon, were exiled to Krypn.

Krypn, an old and very narrow slot canyon, connected the Raiain river to the Luaiain ocean by cutting right through the middle of Argaiain, the tallest mountain of the Koai range.

When the last Tengrekon child had been rowed down to the deepest point of Krypn, the leader of the Eieduon ordered a complex and total collapse of both ends of this particular region of the canyon, cutting off the Raiain and effectively trapping the Tengrekon.

For decades, the wars raged on, whilst the Tengrekon remained trapped. They took some of the seeds they had managed to gather before exile and farmed to feed themselves, loosening the soil along the sides of the canyon. When the remains of the Raiain dried up, they were forced to dig even deeper in search for water. Every action they took in the name of survival, in providing for themselves, also had the unwanted side-effect of trapping them more thoroughly in their canyon-mountain prison.

Still, they grew.

A great city was built from nothing, homes carved into stone and connected by ladders and bridges. An emphasis in thinking resulted in a period of great scientific advancement whilst a legacy of philosophy and peaceful debate flourished.  

Children were born and raised on stories of the planet’s surface, on the legend that one could see Rao rise and fall past some line called ‘horizon’.

Some of these children, dreaming of freedom, took to climbing the sides of the canyon. They never got too far, for the top of the canyon was also the peak of the imposingly tall Argaiain mountain, thus the climb was tricky and dangerous and the necessary stops for altitude acclimatization left them vulnerable to beasts of great ferocity who roamed the narrow foothholds of Krypn and didn’t take well to the Tengrekon trespassers.

With every young Tengrekon that braved the climb, a Path was slowly cleared, making it easier for the next and the next and the _next_.

Still, no one reached the surface.

Until a young woman named Shahr, daughter to the city’s leader and half-way through her studies at the city’s school of higher learning, called a meeting with all the school’s students. Impassioned and charismatic, she slowly but surely persuaded all of her peers to follow her in a mission that would make history.

After a year of organizing, the group of young scholars departed their homes and went to the start of the, now infamous, Path of the Climbers. One by one, they began to climb, catching each other when one of them stumbled, lifting each other to footholds they wouldn’t have been able to reach on their own, protecting each other from the beasts that threatened them, keeping each other warm the higher they reached.

It took months of faith and trust and love and then…

They reached the surface.

This is what Kara dreams of:

Her father, reciting the story of Shahr Kal-El and the rest of the Molir Magho – the Scholar Pillars –  to his wide-eyed daughter. Teaching her the history behind their family’s words: El Mayarah. For together, the strength of one becomes the strength of many, and no feat is unconquerable, not even rising from the lowest ends of the world to the highest.

This is what Kara dreams of:

In-Ze, her grandfather, showing her the Tangrekon ruins under the city, explaining the complex engineering required to carve the stone-city of their ancestors.

Trailing behind them, Alura and Astra, mirrors to one another, debate on the leaving behind of the Tangrekon name. Aunt Astra calls it a slap in the face to the injustices their people faced for generations. Mother argues that the unification of the Old Nations under the appellation of ‘Kryptonians’ was, after The Ascent, the single most important victory of the Tangrekon people, who dreamed of peace more than anything.

They all fall quiet when they reach the oldest building in the ruins. A phrase, inscribed on the façade and still visible after all this time:  
_Y_ _ou stand before the final home of the surviving Tangrekon people.  
Let it be known that we called our home Argo of Krypn and that its citizens endured with dignity and lived with hope_.

 

(This is what Kara dreams of:

memories)

 

///

 

Kara’s blind descent is stopped not by a meeting of the ground but by a swift deceleration followed by plunging into something gelatinous and, hopefully, shock-absorbent.

She falls unconscious too fast to notice anything else.

 

///

 

Kara regains consciousness in the most dignified of manners… by rolling onto her side and coughing out some sort of dark gunk from her lungs.

By the time she’s done sputtering, her head feels as if someone has taken a very tiny jackhammer and then decided to set it loose somewhere in her skull. Add the burning throat and painfully heaving chest and Kara is in more than a bit of discomfort.

Which is what initially distracts her from noticing the odd turn reality has taken.

Until she shakily tries to stand and comes face to face with a giant eye. At least, she thinks it’s an eye. Her surroundings are very dark, like a moon-less night so…

Anyways. Point is, she’s suddenly face to face with a pupil the size of her head, surrounded by a startlingly violet iris which in turn is surrounded, not by sclera, but by a pitch black darkness that stretches farther than she can see, melding seamlessly with the sky of this strange pl-

The thing blinks.

Kara yelps and stumbles back unsteadily, losing her footing and landing butt-first onto a slippery wet surface.

Totally confused and still more than a little dazed, she runs a hand against the cool glass-like ground she’s sat sprawled on. Under a film-like layer of whatever liquid is currently soaking her clothes, the ground is utterly smooth. Her fingers glide on it, never catching onto any grooves or bubbles or any other kind of imperfection.

“What the-”

Out of the corner of her vision, she sees the blackness of the eye-holding creature shift, making space for some other blur of motion. Instinctively, Kara throws herself backwards, lying flat on her back just in time to see something huge and scaly and shimmery dart over her head.

Heart pounding, Kara stands quickly, looking for whatever that creature (creatures?) was…

only to get knocked over again by a solid wall of water. Coughing to dislodge the mouthful she inadvertently swallowed, Kara struggles to not get swept up by the water, which she sees is less of a wall and more of a deluge of heavy drops flying... sideways? Moving totally horizontal and possibly defying physics, and she has no clue of how in the world she is going to get out of this-

Kara loses her precarious grip on the weird glossy surface and tumbles sideways, hitting her head and losing consciousness as the raging sidepour sweeps her up into its fury.

 

///

 

This time, she wakes up a bit more gracefully.  
In that she flails only a little and isn’t coughing up suspect substances in the process.

As she tries to catch her breath, Kara finds herself regretting being convinced by Alex to watch the Silent Hill film back when they were kids because there is a heavy fog surrounding her, thick and opaque and oddly sweet-tasting, and it is totally and completely freaking her out.

(She tries to convince herself it’s just the fog what’s scaring her, not the lack of visibility. Not the feeling of being trapped somewhere she can’t escape with only her thoughts as company)

As she stands, she takes a minute to be grateful for the fact that at least the ground feels like normal ground again. Looking closer, she can recognize the gritty grey of pavement and the faint odor of burnt tire.

Back on the highway then?

Or, at the very least, _a_ highway.

Suddenly the fog rises upwards, darkening and revealing rows of cars just before letting loose another deluge of rain, sending Kara sprawling half-under one of the cars she had gotten a glimpse of. She tries to protect her head and find something to hold onto before she and the car covering her get swept up and-

Water hits the back of her calf.

Kara turns her head, still cradled between her hands, and sees that the rain is blessedly vertical in direction.

Now that it seems she’s not in immediate danger, Kara tries to bring her disjointed thoughts back into focus, tries to remember what has happened.

All she remembers though is…

Rain. Monsters. _Falling_. Rao, falling for an eternity. And before that, the highway. Kara struggles to remember more. What was she doing on the highway? Where was she going?

Shivering, Kara prods around the pain of her head. Her fingers come coated with blood and she thinks that must be bad. The vague memory of a woman’s voice lecturing her on the dangers of concussions drifts into her mind.

Kara tugs on the memory, tries to follow it to others and-

 _Alex_.

Kara remembers now.

Traffic. Truck. Static. Walking to Officer Nguyen’s cruiser.

By the time her head is clearer, and she has a better grip on the latest sequence of events, the rain has stopped. In fact, it’s probably been clear for a few minutes, so Kara cautiously scoots out from underneath the car that was shielding her from the worst of the quick storm.

Woozily getting to her feet, she takes a moment to look at her surroundings, which look remarkably familiar. She really _is_ back on the highway; she can see the police cruiser from here, and near it-

 

///

 

Snapper stares incredulously at the no longer rippling surface of the puddle- water- portal? As his thoughts take on a distinctly hysterical edge to them, he remains staring at the- at the- _thing_. Now utterly placid and harmless-looking.

Snapper thinks of Danvers. Kara. Thinks of how young she is (the youngest in their team). Thinks of how foolishly optimistic she is (determined to be kind). He thinks and thinks and stares blankly at the _thing_ that just swallowed down the girl he promised Cat Grant to look after. One of _his_ people.

Shakily, he stands, fleetingly wondering where Supergirl is. This whole mess looks to be just up her alley. Her and her gaggle of mysterious black ops agents.

(He does not think of how Supergirl only ever speaks to three people in the media. Just like he doesn’t think of how easily Sunny Danvers must have charmed the hero with her naïve earnestness as they tried to find some open block of time since Cat Grant, ornery woman that she is, probably makes even Supergirl book an appointment for whenever they need to speak.

He does not think of how, if Supergirl likes Kara as much as she should then she should be _here_ , goddamnit, saving the girl from reporter-eating puddles)

Snapper does not think, he just stares at the place where Kara Danvers just fell into and walks forwards, an automatic movement that does not register as he’s too busy trying to _not_ remember shy suggestions and beaming pride and astonishing gumption until, before he knows it, before he consciously decides it, his muscles are clenching, legs and abdomen tightening in preparation of jumping into the-

A hand clenches the collar of his shirt, dragging him backwards. He flinches and flails, trying to free himself.

"Snapper! Snapper! Lucas!"

Hearing his name shocks him out of struggling and he turns back to see that the person who dragged him away is-

"Kara?" he croaks out.

"Hi," she responds back wearily, letting go of his shirt. He doesn't even notice, too busy staring at the battered-looking woman. She's got a nasty cut on her temple, which is already swollen and purpling.

Her hair has come partly free of her usual ponytail, wisps of it sticking to grimy looking skin, the rest of it soaked and stringy. Her eyes look sunken into her face, bruised and tired in a way that sends a pang through his chest where a scar, gotten over a decade ago during a shoot-out in Gotham, throbs in phantom remembrance.

Blood-specked fingers grasp his arm, pulling him back even more from the _Thing_ until they're pressed up against a white van.

"We need to get in contact with the authorities. Or my sister. She's FBI, she’ll know what to-" Danvers' garbled stuttered words abruptly stop as she throws herself onto the floor, dragging him down with her.

Just in time to dodge an oddly shaped stick that embeds itself onto the van's side paneling.

Gaping and frozen, he watches the stick deform, almost as if melting, only to gather again as some lizard-like figure, rippling and shimmery and reaching for them.

Kara wheezes and something comes loose in his chest, the immobility of a moment ago leaving him as he springs to his feet, helping the blonde up and then turning and running because he's human and there are some things humans just aren't ready to face.

Something glimmers on the corner of his eye and he swerves to the right just in time to avoid stepping onto what may be a puddle or may be another _Thing_.

Danvers isn't so lucky, one leg sinking knee-deep into it. He stops, grabbing her arm and pulling frantically. Helplessly looking at the approaching whatever-it-is and pulling and pulling, but it's no use because Danvers is only sinking deeper and then she’s pushing at his chest, sending him stumbling back a step.

"Go," she whispers hoarsely, "run. Run back a couple of miles to a red trailer truck. Ask for the driver's radio. Turn to channel 409.377 and say exactly this: El Mayarah."

At his useless staring, she reaches out and pushes him again.

"Run!"

And damn him to hell but he runs.

(Only glancing back once, after a few meters, to see Kara grappling with the creature, both of them sinking into the _Thing_ )

He runs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't remember what I rated this as.


End file.
